


Hold Me Close, or Let Me Go

by PrayerforPuja



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Drama, Fights, First Crush, First Kiss, First Love, First Time, Gen, Heroism, Kidnapping, M/M, Near Death Experiences, Partial Nudity, Plot Twists, Post Season 8, Thriller, comeback of dead character(s), season 9 alternative version
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-16
Updated: 2013-07-22
Packaged: 2017-12-20 10:01:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 21,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/885943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrayerforPuja/pseuds/PrayerforPuja
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel is human and the angels are locked out of heaven, but that is not all that is wrong with the present. Dean and Cas are getting closer, all the while something more evil is preparing to make his move, and Sam is caught in the crosshairs. Will Dean and Castiel be able to rescue Sam and face the evil lying on their path? Evil they have previously faced before? And in the midst, will Dean and Cas be able to realize how they truly feel for each other?<br/>Filled with suspense, mystery & romance every step of the way, welcome to Supernatural, the alternate version.</p><p>(Familiar dead characters reincarnated. Their names have not been mentioned in the character section since they would contain spoilers)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. There's Always a First

PROLOGUE

From roses to lilies, from daffodils to sunflowers, every flower that bloomed in this vast never-ending garden in paradise bloomed with the most explosive and vivid color. Amongst them stood a man, facing the blooming flowers and taking in the picturesque beauty in front of him. But it wasn’t enough; even standing in heaven’s paradise, his paradise, was not soothing him. He was an old man with dark brown hair and beard, wearing faded blue jeans and a jacket. He had seen the future on Earth, and it troubled him deeply. He wants to go back, and fix things before it was too late. That’s why he was standing here, he was waiting for someone.

And that someone had finally arrived.

Walking up behind him and stopping a few inches away from him, this unfamiliar fellow faced the old man’s back and pulled out a cigarette. He lit his cigarette with one swift move of his lighter and said, “I know what you’re thinking. And you must know, this will be very risky.” His voice was deep, low pitched and quiet yet his meticulous tone was always professional. He took a drag from his cigarette and blew out the smoke behind the old man’s head.

The old man turned around to face him. His visitor was a handsome 30 something year old man with pale skin and black hair. He wore a plain white shirt, a black tie and a black suit. His eyes were narrow and small, and his thin lips were surprisingly unaffected from so much smoke. The old man knew this man very well. Ever since he reached heaven, they had met each other, and had remained close friends and allies whenever they faced trouble in heaven. 

“The Winchesters are well known to have successfully killed monsters far dangerous than what they’re about to face, and they have also been pulled back from the depths of hell, or so I’ve heard.” The man said confidently and took another drag from his cigarette.

“Yes, that’s true. But I don’t want either Sam or Dean to face another life or death situation like that,” the old man replied, sadness imminent in his voice. “So I don’t care what measures I have to take, I want to help them.”

The man now looked at the old man with sympathy and walked closer. He put his hand on the old man’s left shoulder and whispered in his left ear, “So do I.” He walked few steps forward, the old man facing his back now, and continued, “but like you said, the Winchesters had faced him once before, and defeated him.”  
“Yes, they did,” the old man replied, “but it came with a price. He destroyed so many lives, including theirs, and I don’t think the brothers will be able to survive a situation like that again.”  
The young man sighed. He was right. He threw his cigarette to the ground and stepped on it till the flame went out. “All right, I will make the arrangements. It will take me some time though.”  
“How soon?” The old man demanded.  
“Not as soon as we’d hoped, but soon enough,” the young man reassured, sounding determined.  
The old man took a deep breath and gritted his teeth, and cursed.  
“Balls.” 

*********

Chapter 1: There’s Always a First 

Human.

I am human.

Castiel said to himself as he stepped out of the shower, dripping wet and naked, staring at himself in the bathroom mirror. The words feel awfully strange in Castiel’s mouth, like tasting a piece of rusted metal. His wet hair and clean-shaven face feels alien to him, still. He hardly ever looked at himself in the mirror when he was an angel, caring for his outer appearance never so much as struck him once back then. He was too busy trying desperately to fix everything he’d wronged, in heaven and earth. But now, the strength and the power he felt in him are gone, and a weakened state of an extremely fatigued insomniac overpowers him. 

I hope Jimmy can forgive me for all I put him through.

He now feels the burden he laid upon his vessel, Jimmy Novak. Those infinite days of putting his vessel through teleportation, flying, beating angels to a pulp & getting stabbed countless times is now finally taking a toll on him. Before when he was an angel he could numb all that pain, and that pain stayed confined only in the memory of his vessel, but now that him & his vessel are united as one, he now feels what Jimmy feels, has felt and will feel. Those old injuries are like battle wounds of a soldier in a war, acting up at any moment without a warning, making Castiel slightly twitch in pain every so often.  
Dean notices this. He has noticed Castiel grabbing the back of his shoulder and giving it a slight nudge or massaging his leg with his fingertips, like someone who has sat in the same position for too long or who has worn-out his legs after a long run. It has been more than a month since the incident, the one that left the angel brethren stranded on this gargantuan blue island with no way to return, and now that Castiel is a human, he had decided to stay with Dean & Sam in their Men of Letters quarters. Dean offered him a place to stay there and he immediately agreed. He couldn’t imagine any other place to stay in this vast eccentric planet without his powers other than with his best friend, his only friend. Now after a month, Castiel has learned a thing or two about living like a human. All thanks to Dean, of course.

Sam was still recovering from the damage the trials had done to him, and after three weeks of bed rest and Dean pampering him like a child, Sam figured he had just about enough. He decided it was time to stop patting himself on the back. He wasn’t going to lie in bed doing nothing, so he went hunting smaller cases and possible sightings as soon as he felt vigorous enough. He promised Dean he was going to take it slow and won’t jump into solving multiple murders or hunting for vampire nests just yet. He wasn’t that much around to teach Cas the finer things of being human, and Dean had decided that after seeing his brother almost die trying to seal the gates of hell, it was time to sit back for a while. Crowley was still at large, whether back to his usual antics or being a half cured demon, Dean doesn’t know. To be quite honest, he doesn’t care at this point. He felt like he was done with trying to close the gates of hell and that it wasn’t his job to reopen the gates of heaven, so all the fallen angels could go back home. They can all rot for all he cares. 

Now about a month later, all Dean did was sit in front of the computer or learn to cook. He’s been doing nothing except stay at home for about a month, and frankly, he doesn’t miss his old life much. I will go back to my old life when it’s absolutely necessary, Dean had decided.

Castiel, on the other hand, misses everything about his old life. How mighty and strong and powerful he was. How close he was getting to his goal of trying to do things right in heaven. But now, he always felt like his job was incomplete. What he set out to do, what he wanted to fix, he couldn’t. He felt like it was partly his fault that he trusted Metatron, and he can’t stop feeling like a screw-up. His brothers and sisters are now scattered and stranded all around the world, and he neither has the capacity nor the guts to communicate with them. They all hate me, Castiel lamented.

“Are you gonna keep sulking like this all day, or are you gonna help me with this?” Dean called out to Cas, who was standing a few inches away from the impala and staring at a flock of birds flying in the sky, frowning. Oh, what I wouldn’t give to fly again. He turned around and looked at Dean, who was picking up some groceries and other items from the back of his trunk. Dean looked at him and looked at the rest of the items in his trunk, and hinted Cas with his head to pick them up. Castiel walked towards the car and picked up the bag of food items and closed the trunk and followed Dean inside.

“Look, I know shopping at the mall for food isn’t your thing,” Dean said as they walked towards the kitchen and put the food on the kitchen counter, “but we haven’t had anything since morning and I’m starving. And since you’re now normal like us ordinary folk, I figured, so are you.” Castiel frowned at Dean and sat at the chair next to the kitchen table. Dean was right. He was starving since morning after he refused to have breakfast, but he wasn’t in the mood to confess his weakness to Dean just yet. He hates feeling hungry, it makes him feel weak, feel dependent on something. But he cannot battle hunger any longer and picks up an apple and bites a big chunk off the side.

Dean smiles at the sound of Cas chewing the apple. He was busy preparing two giant hamburgers for the both of them and wasn’t looking at Cas. He was somewhat happy at the thought of Cas being human, and was also enjoying the fact that now Cas is not able to fly off somewhere else in the middle of a conversation, rudely, like he used to. Dean has also given up eating at diners and fast food joints like before, it was taking a toll on his health, as Cas put it. And now he enjoys home-cooked meals he prepares himself. He has also learned to cook complex dishes involving a lot of ingredients and flavors during this time, but for him, nothing beats an old-fashioned burger with a side of apple pie.

They eat their lunch in silence. Dean looked at Cas many times trying to think of something to say but his mind drew a complete blank. Cas too, was busy staring down at his plate and trying to pick a conversational topic in his mind. Nothing popped. Castiel and Dean finish their burgers and Cas offered to clean the dishes while Dean is talking to Sam on the phone in his study. He can hear Dean’s voice from the kitchen, the sign of concern in his tone. He wipes a plate and steps forward to peek at Dean to listen to what he’s saying.  
“Just be careful man, if you run into any trouble, just give me a call.” Castiel puts the plate back in its place and leans next to the door, “If what you saw was definitely ecto, then someone is definitely possessed in that building. I want you to be careful, and just focus on ganking that ghost and getting out of there.” Castiel imagines what Sam says next is, “I’ll be fine, Dean” to which Dean says, “Alright alright, be safe. And hey, if you hook up with one of the hot roommates next door, make sure to take the other roommate’s number for me,” and then Dean hangs up, smirking. 

Castiel walks back into the kitchen and resumes washing dishes. He knows this case. Sam was talking about it and he went to Chicago to check it out. A real estate agent was engaged to a doctor and was soon to be married. She moved into his apartment on the south side of Chicago a few weeks ago, and, while her fiancé was busy working at the hospital most nights, she was rumored to have heard strange noises and scratching sounds coming from the walls. She assumed it was coming from the people living next door and even complained to the building manager about it. And suddenly, a few days ago, she had quit her job, and had murdered her husband with an axe. Butchered was more like it. He was chopped violently by her, and later when the police came in to examine what was left of him along with Sam two days later, she was nowhere to be found. Sam said he had found traces of ecto in the apartment, and more of the similar black stuff around the windows and near the bed, and after inquiring with the building manager who showed him the sealed off apartment under the impression that Sam was an FBI agent, he assumed she was haunted by a ghost. Dean agreed. With Sam being gone for four days, Dean has remained laid back and relaxed, without ever forgetting to worry about his little brother.

The evening had gone by in a jiff and it was around 10 o’ clock, and Dean was sitting on the sofa next to the bookshelf facing the fireplace. This was a different part of the house, downstairs where it was warmer and was a perfect place to relax with a good book and a glass of brandy on a cool November night. Dean was no reader, so he was sitting with a glass of scotch and listening to some Styx tracks on Sam’s IPod. He was starting to like that thing since it can hold all of Dean’s favorite classics. And let’s face it, cassettes were out. 

He closed his eyes for a while drowning himself in the music and smiling at the calm serenity of the atmosphere. No running. No chasing monsters. No killing. No chaos. Just him. He smiled at the peace he felt here after a long time. He was starting to forget what peace meant, but now after a long time he was finally enjoying what he was drinking and listening to.

His moment of peace was interrupted by slow footsteps coming down the stairs, and Dean opened his eyes and turned his back without getting up. It was Castiel, coming downstairs after finishing Dostoevsky’s Crime and Punishment in his room. He loves to read, but eventually he tires himself and after a while he longs for the company of Dean.

“Hey man, I thought you were reading,” Dean said smiling, after turning back and looking at the fire while taking a sip of his scotch. “Yeah, just finished,” Cas replied and walked forward and poured himself a glass of scotch sitting on the table next to Dean’s sofa. Cas sat next to him, and as he shifted to the left to make room for him and looked at Cas, he saw that Cas was wearing Dean’s dark red shirt and jeans. Dean had loaned some of his clothes to Cas after he turned human, and even though Cas loved wearing Jimmy’s suit and trench coat, he figured nostalgia wouldn’t be enough to hold onto his favored trench coat forever as a human. He bought a few pairs of shirts and pants these past few weeks, but instead, he still prefers wearing Dean’s clothes. He loves the fabric of his cotton shirts and slightly old Jeans, and he loves the faded scent of beer, blood and women’s perfume on them. Dean’s clothes each have a unique story of their own, Cas envisions, from the time he wore them to a bar with Sam, to ganking a few vampires and vetalas and other such monsters, to hooking up with a long-legged blond bartender in some small town and so much more, Castiel presumes.

Cas still cannot imagine how Dean does everything he does as a human, because for the first time in his life, he understands the simplicity of a man’s life and how brave Dean was to just risk it to save his brother’s life or someone’s else’s. Admiring Dean’s bravery and courage, he realizes he cannot even compare himself to someone like Dean, and lets out a deep sigh.

Dean hears this and looks at Cas, who was just staring at his glass of scotch and moving it, rolling the ice cubes in it. He looks back at the fire and asks, “Okay, tell me. What’s bothering you?”  
Cas looks up at Dean, staring at his jaw line, and looks back down, “Nothing,” he murmurs silently, and gulps down what was left in his glass.  
“You can tell me, you know. You hardly talk nowadays, you just keep reading, or looking at the sky or whatever the hell you keep doing. You don’t talk anymore. I’m here for you, you know.” Dean says and looks at him now, with an expression of friendly concern on his face. Cas smiles at his words, he loves how much Dean still cares for him despite everything. He then looks back up to Dean, staring into his eyes, trying to find the words to express what he was thinking at that moment, but instead he just smiled and shook his head.

“Forget about it,” he said to Dean and got up, and as he was about to put down the glass in his hand and head upstairs, he heard Dean say, “Hey!” in a rough and low pitched voice. The slight anger was clear in his tone, and Cas turned around to face him in an instant, confused. Dean was standing and staring straight at him with narrowed eyes, and walked forward. “Why can’t you just talk to me Cas, huh? Can’t you see I’m just trying to help you here! You can tell me anything. But I can’t help you if don’t communicate with me.” Cas can hear the seriousness in Dean’s voice.

“There’s nothing to say,” Cas replied, the lie obvious in his quiet deepened tone, “I told you to forget about it. I’m fine.”

“The hell you are!” Dean snapped back, his voice higher. “You don’t have to lie to me, you know. Look, I know being a human sucks, trust me, I know, I am one,” Dean says as he walks towards Castiel, standing now a mere few inches away from him, “but you don’t have to keep feeling sorry for yourself. I know you miss being an angel, having all that power all that glory, I know you miss that part of your life, but what’s past is past. You’ve got to start living in the present, man. Or you’ll drive yourself nuts thinking about it.”

Cas was now starting to feel a bit frustrated. He clenched his fists and said firmly, “What do you want me to say Dean?” he asked sadly. “Do you want me to bitch about losing my powers, how Metatron betrayed my trust, how I screwed up everything I was trying to fix, how I ended up being ordinary and useless, unable to help my brothers and sisters who are now just as useless as me because of my mistake?” His voice was almost breaking.  
“You are not useless, you hear me?” Dead said in a firm and rigid manner, almost offended. “Just because you are human doesn’t mean you can’t fix what happened. We can still figure this out. Once Kevin comes back from his dad’s home, we can still figure out something.”

Castiel lets out a dry and humorless laugh, like someone who had lost hope on everything long, long ago. “Please Dean, just stop. There is no fixing this. No hope for me or for the other angels. We are stranded here, forever, locked out of our home, with nowhere else to go. But that is something that doesn’t even bother me anymore. I’ve almost forgotten my past, my powers and my old self. You’re wrong, Dean. I’ve accepted my present and my present self as a human, and it doesn’t bother me much at all.”

Dean now felt confused. He knew Cas was bothered and he was betting all his money it was all because of losing his grace. But it wasn’t that. Dean cannot fathom another reason in his mind as to why Cas was sad.

Castiel looks at Dean, looks into his eyes, and then turns his head to the side, unable to look at him anymore in guilt. He then lets out a deep moan and closes his eyes for a moment, then opens them and speaks again.

“It’s because of you, Dean.” He says slowly, and the confusion was adamant in Dean’s face. “I’m bothered because I do not deserve your kindness. You should be angry with me after what I have done, after what I did to you in the past, and I do not deserve your forgiveness. I understand now all the pain and betrayal I have caused you, after I left you in purgatory to fend for yourself, after I didn’t trust you with the angel tablet. And that’s not even half the things I did to hurt you, to betray your trust. I understand now, because now I can feel what I’ve made you feel, and I’m horrified by it.” A tear escapes from the corner of Castiel’s eye, and he wipes it off like he was trying to mask his new-felt emotions as a human. “I can’t even stand in your presence without feeling guilty.” His voice breaks.

Dean just looks at him, and he finally understands that Cas had never felt any emotion before, never as a human. He never understood the concept of betrayal and abandonment, of fear and guilt. It was all new to him. But now, his fragile human brain is finally starting to piece together what he did and what affect it had made on his best friend. And he cannot change what he did. He was not guilty about what happened in heaven, but about what happened between him and Dean these past few years. Alien to dealing with human sentiments, the emotional turmoil is now too much for Castiel to bear.

Dean now feels sorry for misunderstanding Castiel’s emotions. His expression changes from confusion to sympathy, his forehead slightly creasing, and he said quietly, “Look, I don’t care about any of that crap. Like I said, what’s past is past. And I live in the present. I’ve forgiven you, because I know that what you did, you did it because you thought it was right. And even though you did some things that made me wanna kick your ass several times, I’ve chosen to forget all of that and forgive you. Because that’s what friends do.”

Castiel couldn’t control his emotions anymore, and his eyes tear up. He could feel the knot in his throat tightening, and he could feel this strange emotion overpowering him. He never felt like this, ever, and he shuts his eyes tight in confusion. Tears escaped from his closed eyes with force, like water pouring out of a breaking dam. He tries to speak, sobbing, “I don’t know what t-to do anymore. I just feel so l-lost.” He breaks down, his face buried in his hands.

Dean enters Castiel’s personal space and hugs him, “Hey, hey, its okay. Its gonna be okay,” Dean consoles him, his right hand patting Castiel’s back and his left touching his hair.

Castiel lets go of his face and wraps his arms around Dean. He sobs even more, breathing heavily on Dean’s collarbone, and although no sound escapes from his mouth, tears flow from his eyes uncontrollably. He buries his face on the side of Dean’s neck, and repeats several times; “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Dean. God, I’m so sorry,” and hugs him tight.

“Its okay. Forget about it,” Dean replies and hugs him back, his right hand running up and down Cas’ upper back in consolation. He loosens his arms around Cas after a short while, and a moment later Cas does the same. Cas slightly grips Dean’s lower arms, and as they let go of the hug, their cheeks brush together. Cas closes his eyes, feeling this other man’s cheek brushing against his, and lets it sink in. Surprisingly, it felt good. Dean’s cheek felt like sandpaper, a grainy texture combing across his cheek, and Cas smiled for a second. And without even thinking, he kissed Dean on the lips.

Castiel’s emotions had overpowered him. He lost the ability to think and kissed Dean on instinct. He couldn’t control how he felt for this man anymore, a man who, despite of everything that happened, welcomed him back into his life with open arms and gave him a home. As an angel, he felt this connection toward Dean. He could never explain it, he could never understand it. But now, it was clear as day. It wasn’t plain attraction, it wasn’t paltry lust. It was love.

When Cas pressed his lips against Dean’s, Dean was absolutely shocked and surprised. He was stiff, rigid, and his brain ceased to work for a moment. For 4 seconds, he couldn’t move his hands or lips. Cas had grabbed hold of Dean’s arms, his grip tightening. For 4 seconds, Dean wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do. But, as those 4 seconds passed, Dean started to feel, to actually feel, Castiel’s soft gentle lips against his, and, it felt, beautiful. The shock faded away and Dean was overwhelmed with an absolute sense of peace and serenity during the kiss; the same feeling of peace he felt a while ago listening to his music and sitting alone in front of the fire.

After 4 seconds, Cas parted his lips and tasted Dean’s lips, and a second later, Dean, without even thinking, parted his. He couldn’t control what had just happened and how he felt and just gave in without thinking. He kissed Castiel back and tasted his soft gentle lips, and parted his lips to acquire his taste. It was amazing, and Cas let go of Dean’s arms and instead held onto him tight, wrapping his arms around his neck and gently touching Dean’s short hair with his right hand. He let his fingertips slide into Dean’s hair, and Dean gripped Castiel’s back firmly and passionately, pulling him closer with a jolt, hugging him tight as their kiss got deeper. Cas had completely lost control at this moment, and savored Dean’s lips, sucking Dean’s lower lip hard whilst his tongue tried to taste Dean’s mouth. Seconds later, their tongues had made contact, and were now intertwined as they opened their mouths to savor each other on the inside. Their tongues massaged each other and Dean let go of his tight grip and put his right hand on Cas’ cheek to pull his face closer inside his mouth. At this point, even Dean’s brain had ceased to function. He gave into the kiss which had now gotten more and more passionate as they both breathed heavily tasting each other’s mouth deeply with their eyes closed. Cas put his hands on Dean’s chest and as he felt him breathe, he could feel Dean’s heartbeat which was now beating ten times more faster. Oh, there is no sound in the world more magical than his heart, Castiel mused happily.  
Dean pulled back with his eyes still closed, breathing heavily against his face. Their foreheads touched as they both tried to catch a breath, panting heavily with passion. Dean’s eyes were shut tight, and as he opened them, that’s when something happened. Something Castiel didn’t anticipate.

When Castiel kissed him, Dean went rigid. He simply didn’t know what just happened and a few seconds later, he gave into the kiss without even thinking. He simply enjoyed the joy and pleasure of Castiel’s lips as the air in him filled Dean’s lungs, and he couldn’t help but pull Cas close and not let go. But as he pulled back to catch a breath, panting heavily as each nerve in his body rushed blood ten times faster to his brain, he opened his eyes. He stared deep into those big blue eyes who stared back at him, and all of a sudden, his brain started to work again and snapped back, making him widen his gaze. What the hell did I just do? 

In a swift second, Dean pulled back. He let go of his grip and took two steps back, shaking. Castiel was wordless; he looked at Dean’s face whose expression was overflowing with confusion and anger, with a hint of surprise. He was still breathing heavily, and tried to muster a few words from his mouth, “I can’t… I can’t do this. I just…”, he tried hard to say something, say the right thing here, but he was lost. His best friend had just kissed him and he kissed him back, without even thinking. He didn’t know how to react, so instead he decided to leave. Leave before anything else happened. He walked past Cas towards the staircase in a jiff.

“Dean, wait!” Castiel shouted behind Dean, his voice cracking with guilt and sadness at Dean’s unexpected reaction. Dean heard him but didn’t stop; he walked up the twirling staircase and walked rapidly as he reached the Men of Letters living room. Castiel was running behind, calling his name out just so he could stop and listen. He wanted to say he was sorry, wanted to explain he acted out on impulse and in no way wanted to anger his best friend. He was now cursing himself for what he did, feeling mad that he couldn’t control his actions more stalwartly, actions that could now cost him his friendship with Dean.

“Dean please, I’m sorry!” Castiel cried behind Dean who was rushing towards the door with even greater speed. He stopped at the table to pick up his car keys, avoiding Castiel with intent. He was in no mood to talk to him at this moment. He was still trying to make sense of their situation. Castiel stood behind Dean, in an attempt to stop him. Dean picked up his keys and turned around, facing Cas. “Dean please, just let me explain…” He didn’t even let Cas finish the sentence and walked past him in a rush. He reached the door with Cas walking up behind him, and opened the door. 

“DEAN!” Cas screamed. 

Nothing. Dean closed the door with a loud thud. He had left, leaving Cas standing alone by the door. Castiel stood in the empty room alone, feeling distraught. Never in a million years did he ever think he would offend his best friend. He let his emotions overpower him and now Dean had left, fuming, confused. Castiel thinks Dean will never speak to him now after what had just happened, and in his mind he felt like he deserved it. 

But Cas couldn’t control himself. Rather, he didn’t want to. He had always felt something special for Dean, as an angel he couldn’t understand it, but as a human, Dean’s kindness and his very touch had clarified Cas’ feelings for him. It was clear as day. Cas loved him, and at that moment in the room beneath his feet, wanted to kiss him more than anything else. But now, he regrets his actions since he should have thought about what Dean thinks of him too. Cas looked down at the floor and heaved a deep sigh, and that familiar knot on his throat tightened again, and when he closed his eyes a tear escaped from one of them. What have I just done? 

*

Back in Chicago, Sam was walking into a dark alleyway near the victim’s apartment tonight. He was following the same woman who had killed her husband. Trisha Parker, the happily engaged real estate agent of south side Chicago, was now a possessed murderer who had caused three deaths till now. Four, if Sam hadn’t stepped in to save the fourth a few minutes ago. When the murder of the husband occurred, Sam had interviewed the neighbors next door and also the building manager downstairs. The building manager, Ryan, a pale skinned well built man with slightly graying hair in his forties, explained to Sam that Trisha had frantically knocked on his door several times during evening hours and sometimes even at night, complaining about strange noises and scratching sounds in her apartment, asking if the neighbors next door were always that noisy. Ryan told Sam that he even came up with her once to check upstairs if everything was okay next door. He knocked on the neighbors’ door several times but no answer. “Looks like they’re out tonight Miss Parker, I’m sure it’s not them who’re making that noise,” Ryan assured her.  
“I bet they have a dog locked inside there who’s dying to get out and have a walk and that’s why it’s making so much noise,” Trisha replied.

Ryan was right. The neighbors next door, two girls who live together in the apartment as roommates, are rarely ever home. One is an internist and the other is a bartender who works nights in a club called Jazz. The internist was familiar with the husband, Matt Hardy, since they both worked at the same hospital. Both of the girls were almost never home during the evening and sometimes even at night, and they certainly didn’t have any pets. 

Sam was certain this was the work of a pissed of ghost of a woman who had possessed Trisha, and the history of the building proves his theory. 25 years ago, a couple lived in the same apartment Trisha and her husband rented, and according to reports the husband of the previous couple had an affair with the woman next door. The wife found out about it, and killed her husband and the woman next door and later hanged herself in the bedroom. And tonight, after Trisha entered the building and murdered the internist who was alone in her apartment and attacked the building manager Ryan who came to her rescue, Sam was absolutely certain of his theory. When Ryan heard the screams and came over to find the internist in pieces in her living room, he immediately called Sam. He had given Ryan his number to call him in case he saw Trisha again. And Ryan did, standing at the end of the hallway this time with an axe, ready to chop Ryan with all her force. When Sam came running over he found Ryan unconscious by the elevator and revived him. Ryan told him that when he tried to tackle Trisha by taking the axe away from her hands, she simply shoved him with so much force that he flew into the air and slammed against the wall, hitting his head. That was a few minutes ago. Sam rushed downstairs, hoping he would run into her and pull that ghost out of her. He spotted her a few meters away, running into an alley trying to escape Sam’s sight. Sam ran towards her, following her as fast as he could. As he ran, he stopped to catch a breath and looked around. Trisha was nowhere to be seen. It was dark, and he anticipated that she must have escaped. And then, suddenly, something jumped on top of him, pushing him towards the ground and knocked him in the head so hard he couldn’t focus anymore. A dizzying sensation overpowered him, and he lost consciousness in a few seconds, his mind drifting into blinding darkness.

*

Back home, Castiel was pacing around his bedroom back and forth, calling Dean’s cell phone. This was the 11th time Cas had called him, and all he got was voicemail. Dean wasn’t picking up, and Cas was getting anxious. Dean was still mad, Cas told himself dejectedly, and was wondering if he would ever be able to forgive him for what he did. Finally, after losing hope of getting in touch with him over the phone, Cas threw his phone vehemently on the bed, and headed for the bathroom, and locked the door inside.

Nearby, Dean was sitting at the local bar a few miles away from home. He had been sitting there for over an hour, alone with his thoughts. The bartender was sheepishly serving drinks to the few customers sitting nearby, without making any conversation and remaining aloof from their problems. Dean was happy about that; he didn’t want to talk or share his problems with anybody right now, much less the current problem he’s having. He still couldn’t make sense of what happened tonight, whether he imagined it or it was a dream. It clearly wasn’t, Dean realized, as he wouldn’t be sitting in some bar in the middle of the night during winter when he could have stayed warm on top of his cozy memory foam mattress.  
How could I kiss him? Dean wondered over and over. How could he kiss me? “We’re just friends,” Dean kept telling himself, over and over. Before, Dean was mad at Cas when he stepped into the bar, fuming with slight anger and confusion, but later as he sat down and realized what had happened before, he realized it wasn’t just Castiel who kissed him. It was Dean as well, who willfully participated in the kiss. Dean still remembered how it felt, the whole kiss, the warm sensation tingling all around his body, the jitters he felt when Cas hugged him tight as his breath hissed on his collarbone, and to his surprise, Dean felt good. He had never kissed a guy before; ever since he was a kid, he was certain that if any boy tried to kiss him he would have kicked his ass. But Cas is not just any boy. He is different, he is his best friend, and he means the world to him, even if Dean doesn’t admit it. But now, Dean doesn’t know how to feel about him. Where they stand after this, he doesn’t know. Whether what happened had ruined their friendship in some way. 

And it wasn’t just that, Dean had never felt the way he felt when he kissed Cas. He was in love before, with Cassie and with Lisa, and his feelings for both of them were quite different. Dean was very young when he fell in love with Cassie, and Dean had just lost his brother when he moved in with Lisa and her son Ben. He had different views on his feelings for both of them, but now, with Castiel, his feelings are something entirely different. The kiss had opened his eyes. Dean felt supreme peace at the moment, a sense of calm when he gave into it. He remembered, as Cas locked his lips with Dean and oxygen transferred from one body to the other, Dean didn’t feel at all weird, it felt peaceful. It felt out of this world. It felt perfect. Dean realized his mistake. He shouldn’t have freaked out and stormed off like that, it was extremely rude on his part. He shouldn’t have left Cas, and come here instead, embracing the loneliness when he could have stayed back and been with the one person he should’ve been with all along.  
Dean immediately picked up his car keys and pulled out some money and threw it next to his half finished bottle of beer, unwittingly along with some extra money, leaving a smile on the aloof bartender’s face. Dean didn’t care. He rushed out the door in a hurry and got into the impala.  
Dean finally realized the truth. It felt right. 

Amidst the thundering darkness, rain poured heavily as the winds grew frantic and the sky grew louder. Lightning jolted a few small trinkets lying on top of some furniture in the “batcave”, and the water pouring on top of Castiel’s head coming from the shower turned colder than usual. In an hour, the weather had turned just as miserable as Cas felt, who had now stood in the shower for about twenty minutes, still thinking. He had now lost any and all hope that Dean’s coming back tonight, and even if he did he’ll certainly ignore me, he presumed. 

Cas got out of the shower with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. Half wet and his jet black hair dripping with water, he let his towel slip to the floor as he put on his boxers and jeans, or rather, Dean’s jeans. As he was about to pick up the red shirt, he heard familiar footsteps coming from a distance and stopping near his room. 

Dean, he whispered silently, and smiled, as he was relieved that he was back. He fought the notion of running to him and apologizing to him as many times as possible for the way he behaved, but he figured that may not be the best thing to do. He might still be angry, or he might get angry looking at him, and Cas cannot bear the thought of that. 

Screw it, he said quietly, and decided no matter what Dean might be feeling, Cas had the right to explain himself or at least apologize. He threw his shirt back to the bed and turned around, and for a second, was immediately startled. Dean was standing there, a splash of rain covering his short brown hair and freckled face, right in front of Cas’ bedroom door. He was panting slightly, as if he rushed inside in quite a hurry. Cas just looked at him, his face troubled like that of a small puppy, and stared into Dean’s eyes, finding the right words to say. Dean stared back, with no emotion or speech, still breathing heavily.  
“Dean,” Cas began, still searching for the right words, “I… I…,” he walked closer to Dean, until he reached the open door. He was still wondering what would be the right thing to say about now, but he was at a loss for words.  
“Dean, I just wanna say that I’m sorry, I didn’t know what came over me, and I just hope you can forgive-”

Dean waved his hand and cut him off mid-sentence. “Just, don’t talk.” He replied and walked inside, reaching Cas.  
“What, I-“… Before Cas could even finish what he was about to say, Dean pressed his lips against Castiel’s and took a deep breath. He placed both his hands on Cas’ face and pulled him closer, making the kiss deeper. Cas was astounded and inflexible with disbelief, this time he was the one who was taken by surprise. Dean had just kissed him so passionately that Cas just lost himself as he closed his eyes and drifted into bliss, his knees feeling like they were made of jelly. He gently cupped Dean’s face with his left hand and placed his right arm around Dean’s back, his hand roaming all around his mid and lower back. Dean let go of his face and wrapped his arms around Cas’ faintly wet and naked waist, gripping him tight and slightly pulling him upward, with slight force until Cas was standing on his toes now, wrapping his arms around Dean’s neck so he wouldn’t fall or rather, faint in astonishment. Cas seemed somewhat taller now, and as he sucked Dean’s upper lip and gently bit it Dean let out a slight moan. Cas smiled at that, he was so happy Dean wasn’t mad at him. He realized that Dean had walked out because Cas had done something that took him completely by surprise. Something he had never done, and he just needed some time to process that. And now that he has, it was crystal clear to Dean how he felt, what he felt when he kissed Cas. It wasn’t wrong. It wasn’t lust. It was something else.  
Dean smiled back at him, looking into his eyes Dean felt heat pulsating through his body. He couldn’t control himself, and he pulled Cas and pushed him, and as he slammed into the right wall, Cas let out a slight cry. Dean pinned Cas to the wall and put both hands on either side of Cas. Dean started to kiss his lips with a bit more vigor, then kissed his cheek and moved on to his neck. He licked and sucked on Cas’ neck and moved his lips to his collar bone, and as he sucked he left a small hickey on it. Cas couldn’t help but groan in pleasure, he slid his fingers into Dean’s hair and neck, moving his thumbs to create small circles around his hair. Dean’s lips moved back up to Cas’ lips and as he kissed him again with his hands placed on Cas’ waist, he looked deep into his eyes, and said, “I want you. I want every part of you. I don’t know if this is weird or not, but I want to be yours tonight, and I want you to be mine.”  
Cas smiled broadly. “It’s not weird,” he replied, “It’s exactly what I want. I’ve wanted you for so long. Dean,” he breathed, “I… I want you to have me, Dean.” He smiled and kissed Dean’s forehead.  
Dean closed his eyes, and as he opened them, he looked into Cas’ hypnotic blue eyes, and whispered, “I’ve never done this before.” He breathed the words into Cas’ mouth.  
“Neither have I,” Cas chuckled, “But there’s always a first,” he replied, and Dean chuckled back. They closed their eyes and as they were about to kiss, Dean’s phone buzzed.

Their moment of excitement was interrupted by a vibrating device on Dean’s back pocket. Dean was receiving a call at the most inappropriate moment. Dean heaved a deep sigh and opened his eyes and Cas pursed his lips and frowned slightly. “Just a minute, let me shut that off, “Dean said as he let go of Cas and pulled out his phone from his back pocket. He looked at the screen and saw that he had received 14 missed calls.  
“Ha, you called me 13 times? Man, you really need to learn to give me some space,” Dean grinned. Cas laughed, but then suddenly his laugh faded. “Wait,” he said, “I only called you 11 times. That’s all.”  
Dean stopped smiling and creased his forehead and opened the phone call log. Cas did call him 11 times, and in the first few times when he started calling Dean had simply put his phone on vibrate in the bar, as he didn’t want to talk to Cas at that moment. He realized that that was a mistake, since the last three missed calls have been from Sam. “It’s Sam, he has called thrice now, something’s up,” Dean said, and Cas stopped smiling and looked somewhat serious now. Dean suspected that Sam may have run into some trouble.

Sam’s phone was ringing for the second time now and there was still no answer. Dean now looked worried, his forehead slightly tensing and small lines appearing as it creased. “He’s not answering,” Dean said to Cas. He called Sam the third time. “Come on, come on,” Dean kept repeating.

This time the call was received. “Sam, thank God man, what happened? I got your calls; I was in a bar and I couldn’t answer. Is everything okay? Where are you?” Dean asked, worried.

No answer. Someone was clearly listening to Dean, his breath being heard loud and clear but wasn’t saying anything. “Sam?” Dean asked in confusion.

Then finally, someone laughed. Laughed with the most menacing tone ever. Then, he spoke.

“Sam’s fine, Dean, everything is fine. We’re all here together, having a little reunion,” a male voice replied. This familiar voiced shocked Dean, it wasn’t Sam, and although it was familiar to Dean, he can’t quite make out who it was yet.

“Who is this?” Dean’s tone was deathly serious now. “Where is my brother?” Cas looked at him with utter confusion.

“Don’t you remember me Dean?” The voice asked, playfully. It was definitely someone Dean had talked with before, and by the tone of his voice he was definitely not someone friendly. “We parted on the wrong terms, you and I, and then,” the voice laughed again mockingly, “you ended up in my territory. And now, you’re back, and guess what? I’m back. And I have your brother, Dean. And I’m so, so dying to meet you and Castiel once again.” He said firmly, sounding intimidated.

And then, Dean’s jaw dropped. He couldn’t believe it. He looked at Cas who looked back at him with bewilderment, not knowing who he was talking to, and then, as Dean came to the realization of who he was talking to, Dean clenched his jaw as tightly as he could before he spoke:  
“Dick Roman.”

*

To be continued…


	2. Back From The Depths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Master of Purgatory has risen again. Dick Roman has held Sam hostage, and has demanded Dean and Castiel for something important. Something he wants more than anything else. But Dick Roman had hidden his true agenda from Dean, and now Dean and Cas must face the similar horrific Leviathans with less than no chance of survival. But, unknown to them, someone else is heading towards their way, ready to help. Will Dean and Cas be able to rescue Sam? And also, will Dean be able to choose between saving his life and saving his friend?  
> A suspenseful, thrilling, roller-coaster ride of a chapter that would leave you wanting more...
> 
> (Familiar dead characters reincarnated. Their names have not been mentioned in the character section since they would contain spoilers)

MEANWHILE, IN HEAVEN

They were almost nearing “The Field”. The young and the old man walked together in unison, pacing faster as they reached their destination. This land was the size of a football field with nothing but green grass and a few small trees. This particular area of heaven was once a stunning forest, which housed every possible tree and plant man could fathom to recognize. But once, a dispute over two archangels, two brothers, about whether or not angels should bow down to man or not, led to a majestic fight which caused the destruction and burning of the entire forest, leaving it a vast wasteland. Overtime, the land softened, giving birth to grass and smaller trees, and its underneath one of these trees that both these men or rather, souls, were heading towards.

“Are you sure that such a tablet exists? I mean, are you certain?” The old man turned his head towards the young man and asked while walking briskly. They had a conversation before about a certain tablet, and Bobby was now unsure whether it was true or just a rumour.

“Yes, I’m certain,” the young man replied. He wasn’t looking at the old man but was looking at all the trees, winding his head left and right like he was calculating how many trees they were passing by. “I know it sounds impossible, but this tablet acteually exists.”

“How can you be so sure?” the old man inquired, sounding indifferent to his claim.

The young man smoked the cigarette in between his two left fingers and replied, without stopping, “Because I heard it from a very reliable source. Most angels know about it. Plus, Metatron’s personal note on the demon tablet suggests that there is a compendium of tablets, most likely on all the creatures God created. And seeing as he wrote them, I think we can take the old boy’s word for it.” His voice was low and deep.

The old man exhaled noisily. He was still irresolute of his friend’s claims. The young man blew out the smoke from his lungs, and looked at the old man now, and said: “Bobby, I need you to trust me.”

“I trust you boy,” Bobby nodded. Bobby Singer, former hunter and helper of the Winchesters, had been dead for almost a year now. After being in hell for almost a decade, or what felt like a decade, Bobby was sent to heaven, his true destination, all thanks to the Winchesters of course. Upon reaching heaven, he had met this determined young fellow, also a former hunter, or ‘Supernatural Detective’ as the young man preferred, and he had no doubt but to trust him since everything he had said and done in heaven ever since the first time Bobby met him was precise and thoroughly spot on. “Doubting him is like doubting if water is liquid,” Bobby considered.

“But, what’s this got to do with Sam?” Bobby stopped thinking to himself and asked the most obvious question. “I mean, why’s he so important? What do they want him for?”

“It has everything to do with Sam,” the young man replied as they kept walking and he kept smoking. “His mind is the key to everything Dick and the others are planning. There’s a lot we don’t know about Sam Winchester, not even Sam himself.” He said these words like he meant it.

“And how do you know all this?” Bobby retorted.

“Because John told me.”

Bobby stopped short. “John? Winchester! You talked to him about this?” He asked, perplexed.  
“Yes, I did. Even I was unsure of the rumours. So I went to the only person I could think of. The person famed for knowing a lot about all things supernatural; also, being Sam’s father he was the right guy to ask. He confirmed the rumours. He said everything I heard about this certain tablet and about Sam’s role in this was true.”

Bobby couldn’t believe his ears. John knew all about this. Knew what his son was capable of. ‘And never said anything to me.’ Now Bobby felt snubbed.

“We’re here,” the young man blurted out after a moment of silence, breaking Bobby’s thought. He took a right and walked up to a tree; a tree that looked familiar to all the other trees, and Bobby followed. “Are you sure this is the right place?” Bobby asked, uncertain.  
“Yeah it definitely is.” The young man knew it for sure; he knew exactly in which place under which tree he hid his book, a book that contains handwritten spells to get out of heaven and reach Earth, gifted to him by a certain angel once upon a time.

The young man stopped and closed his eyes. He concentrated hard on something and extended his hands. Bobby kept looking at him, and within seconds there were two identical shovels on both his hands. In heaven, one can wish for anything; shovels, books, favourite food, anything, and it was in one’s hands within seconds. One of the perks of living in paradise.  
“I’m surprised you never told me all these things before,” Bobby asked him, impressed by the young man’s knowledge.

“Well, once I also gave Lucifer the ‘bird’ and punched Gabriel in the face; I didn’t tell you that either now, did I?” The young man replied, grinning like he was proud of that fact. He looked at Bobby one last time before he asked: “Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked, his tone quiet and professional as always.  
“Absolutely,” Bobby answered, without a doubt, he thought. The Winchesters need him and he’ll do anything to save them. Even if it means leaving paradise, along with his wife.

The young man nodded. He extended the shovel in his right hand to Bobby and said, “Dig.”

*

 

CHAPTER 2: BACK FROM THE DEPTHS

 

“I swear to God, if you even harm a single hair on my brother’s head,” Dean yelled at the phone, angry, veins showing on his forehead. Cas was bewildered as he looked at Dean’s sudden change in expression. “What’s going on? Did you just say ‘Dick Roman?’ ” Cas asked in perplexity.

“You’ll what, Dean?” Dick asked, intimidated. “Kill me? I think we’ve established by now that wouldn’t work on me.”

“How is this possible?” Dean exclaimed loudly. “I killed you, WE killed you, and we ended up in goddamn purgatory after ganking your ass. How the hell are you alive?”Cas widened his gaze as Dean said these words. Dick Roman is alive.

Dick laughed once again, louder this time. “Well let’s just say, you chose the wrong weapon to kill me.” He replied.

Dean was even more confused by now.

Dick kept laughing and spoke again, “You morons were so thorough with collecting all the things needed to kill me. You followed every instruction: ‘Leviathan cannot be slain but by a bone of a righteous mortal, as light and good as the Leviathan are hungry and dark, washed in the three bloods of the fallen: a fallen angel, the ruler of fallen humanity, and the father of fallen beasts.’” He narrated the words that were inscribed in the Leviathan tablet, written by Metatron, translated by Kevin Tran the prophet. “Well,” he continued, “you were able to get all the ingredients right, except the bone itself.” Roman chuckled. “Seems like Sister Mary Constant was not so nice after all.”

Dean was speechless. He remembered. Sam and Dean had to get the bone of a righteous mortal in order to kill Dick Roman. So they both stole the bone of a nun, Sister Mary Constant, in the beliefs that she must be pure and righteous. They were wrong. “Oh, Adultery, one of my favourite sins!” Dick exclaimed gleefully. “Sister Mary was a big ol’ slutbag and no one ever knew.” He guffawed.

Dean had now lost what little patience he had left. “Listen to me, you son of a bitch,” he grumbled, “Let Sam go or I swear I will find out where you are and make you pay.” His brow was sweating with fuming anger. 

Dick stopped laughing. The menacing playfulness disappeared in his voice as he said the next words; “Listen to me like you never listened to anybody before in your life,” he commanded with force. “Sam will be fine, as long as you play by my rules. Come to 541 K Browning Street, Chicago, with the leviathan tablet. And bring that halfwit angel of yours too.” Dean looked at Cas. “You and I need to have a long conversation. And Dean,” Dick Roman pressed Sam’s phone closer to his ear, “You do anything out of the ordinary, and me and my friends will feast on Sam until there is very little left to identify your brother. I’ll be waiting.” He hung up.

Dean just stared at his phone now; he couldn’t believe who he just came in contact with. It was impossible. And yet, here he was. Back again. Cas put his hand on top of Dean’s hand which held the phone, and placed his other hand on Dean’s face until his eyes met Castiel’s gaze. He asked, “Hey, hey, what happened? Is Sam okay?”  
Dean looked up a moment later, his eyes still wide. He said, “It’s him. Dick Roman. He’s back. He’s got Sammy.”

*  
Sam Winchester was duped. There was no haunting, no ghost. It was all a trap. The story that the building manager Ryan fed Sam was all a fake. The real Ryan was dead many days ago, and a Leviathan who ate him had taken his place. The Leviathan had chosen this apartment particularly because of its troubled past inside one of its flats. He knew that if he staged something that hinted the work of a paranormal entity, the Winchesters would definitely be there. So he targeted Trisha Parker, the woman living in the apartment where the previous murders happened 25 years ago, killed her and ate her until there was nothing left of her, not before another Leviathan took her place, and while they did everything to make it seem like a haunting, their plan worked. Sam Winchester was lured into this case as intended, the ecto they placed in the apartment did fool Sam, he came that night running when Ryan called him, and was abducted in the alley by Trisha, or her Leviathan body double, as planned. And this was all under the command of Dick Roman.

Sam woke up after a splash of water hit his face. An alarming pain shot up in the back of his head, and as he slowly opened his eyes he saw that he was sitting in someone’s dining room. The wallpaper, the family photos on the wall and the used china placed on the table suggested this was a family home, but there was no family to be seen. Instead there were two men, one of them Ryan and a woman, sitting on the dining chairs, all looking at Sam intently. The woman, Trisha’s double, was holding an empty glass in her hand; she was the one who attacked Sam from behind and hit him in the head with a pipe in the alley, and had now woken Sam up from unconsciousness.  
“Wake up, sleepyhead,” she smirked at Sam, “Someone wants to talk to you.”

And then someone else entered the room. Sam still had water on his face so he shook his head rapidly and looked at who this man was. And then he couldn’t believe who he saw. Dick Roman, the Leviathan head who had died in front of his eyes, and took his brother and Cas along with him in the aftermath, was standing in front of him, smiling with an evil grin, dressed as sharply as always. “Hello Sam, long time no see,” he exclaimed. Sam was wondering whether it was actually Dick, or whether the blow to the head made him suffer serious brain damage.

“Roman!” he asked, shocked in disbelief. “How is this possible? How are you--”  
“All in good time, Sam,” Dick cut him off, grimacing. “I’m sure you’ve already met my friends, Trisha and Ryan,” He pointed out to them, and Sam just looked at them with pure rage in his eyes, “and that’s Mark. He’s quite the helper. We’ve all been waiting to talk to you Sam. It’s been quite a while.”

“How the hell are you alive?” Sam asked, befuddled. “And how are you here?”

“Well, let’s just say you weren’t quite thorough with your methods,” Dick replied with a curt smile. He told Sam of the mistake they made by choosing Sister Mary Constant, and Sam couldn’t believe his ears. “But I saw you explode!” Sam cried out, “I saw you die right in front of me. The impact itself caused my brother and Cas to end up in your hell.”

“Yeah, that,” Dick said, sighing like that was not one of his favourite moments, “Well you boys did get the rest of the materials right, and when I was stabbed with that’s slut’s bone, the rest of the ingredients were enough to make me lose my power.” He frowned. “I became a mortal, a Leviathan with no juice, and even though I was still stronger than humans, I had none of my powers left. So I did the best thing I could. I decided to go back. To purgatory, where I would be safe, and would one day return to kill you sons of bitches who took my power. So I made a dramatic exit; I exploded, making it seem like I had just died and as I left I made sure to drag your brother and Castiel down with me to make them suffer.” Dick gritted his teeth in fury.

Sam stared at him with disbelief. He tried to move but he was chained to the chair he sat on. “So, now what?” He asked Dick, still taken aback by his return, “You’re gonna kill me now, is that it?” He grumbled furiously.

Dick laughed like he had just heard the funniest joke ever. “Oh Sam, you’re adorable,” he chuckled. He walked up to the dining table and pulled out one of its chairs. He placed the chair in front of Sam and seated himself, staring straight into his eyes: “I don’t wanna kill you Sam. I would never do that. You are far too special to me. I need you for something really, really important.” Dick folded his arms and spoke again, with smarm, “You’re gonna meet some old friends of yours too, you know. It’ll be like a reunion.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Sam asked, looking at him with mystification and disgust.

“Like I said, all in good time,” Dick replied smugly, “For now let’s just worry about your brother and his angel coming here and giving me what I want, which I’m sure he will, seeing as I falsely promised him I’d let you go.” He leaned forward. “And after that, you’re gonna watch us eat your brother in front of you. And Cas too. Sources tell me he’s not an angel anymore, is he?” Sam’s silence gave him his desired answer. “Oh, this just keeps getting better and better. Dinner for two, then,” He smiled widely.

Sam couldn’t control himself. He spit on Dick Roman’s face with as much force as possible after he made that last comment. Dick leaned back, startled, and after one second of wiping his face, he got up suddenly and punched Sam’s face with greater force. Sam spit blood after that punch, his molars jittered as his gums bled. “TAPE HIS MOUTH!” Dick yelled loudly at his leviathans, and they immediately got up and did as they were told. “Do NOT leave his sight! I want him well and alive till this whole thing is over. And you,” Dick looks at Sam with wide eyes, “you better hope to God Dean and Castiel show up. Or I don’t care how special you are to the big boys; I will have you for dessert.”

*

Dean pulled out his weapons from his room and headed out the door like a madman. Cas followed him; picking up as many weapons he could find. Guns, knives, machete, bullets, and other weapons that were stored in boxes were now being loaded into the impala’s trunk, their original storage place. The night was still long, and the air cooled down after the heavy downpour. The rain stopped and the ground beneath them felt softer as they walked rapidly outside. Dean couldn’t help but shove all his weapons into the trunk forcefully like he wanted to break them all and Cas turned around and looked at him. “Hey, just stop,” he waved his hand towards Dean, “Look, everything’s gonna be okay,” Cas said softly, trying to console his friend.

“Everything’s not okay!” Dean snapped, and paced back and forth behind the car with anger and impatience. “Dick Roman’s back, I don’t know how, but he is! And he’s got Sammy, and God knows what they’re doing to him right now.” His voice cracked with sadness and concern over his brother’s safety.

“But we killed him,” Cas asked, baffled.

“Well apparently NOT!” Dean yelled loudly at Cas, mad with anxiety. Cas heaved a sigh and walked towards Dean. 

“Calm down Dean, hey,” he tried to place his hand on Dean’s shoulder, but Dean just fidgeted to remove it. Cas felt annoyed. He placed both his hands on Dean’s shoulders and turned him around swiftly, and no matter how much Dean fidgeted Cas gripped them firmly. “Hey listen to me, it’s gonna be okay. We’ll get him out, we will,” Cas whispered, and Dean stopped twitching. “Hey, look at me,” Cas placed his hand on Dean’s cheek and lifted his gaze upwards, “We will save him. Both of us. We dealt with Roman before, together; we’ll do it again this time too. It’s gonna be okay,” he whispered. “Now, tell me, what exactly did he say?” He asked as he let go of Dean.

Dean calmed his nerves and took a deep breath. “I don’t know,” he started, “It was all too vague. He said he had Sam with him and told us to meet him at this address.” He pulled out a piece of paper from his Jeans pocket he wrote the address in. Cas read it out loud: “541 K Browning Street, Chicago.”  
“He told us to come alone. And he also asked for something else.” Dean continued.  
“What’s that?” Cas inquired.  
“The Leviathan tablet,” Dean answered. “Its inside, I gotta get it,” Dean said and was about to head inside, when all of a sudden Cas grabbed his arm.

“Wait, wait,” Cas stopped Dean, “you’re just gonna hand it over to him?” Cas asked, puzzled. 

“What else am I gonna do?” Dean exclaimed.

“Are you sure after you give the tablet to him, he’s just gonna let Sam go, or us for that matter?” Cas asked, unsure of Dick’s proposal.

Dean looked at Cas and considered it for a moment. He was right. Dick Roman was the most distrustful bastard on the planet, and his word meant squat. After a while, he replied, “Look, let’s just go there and make sure Sam’s okay, and after that we can figure out what to do with Dick and the tablet.”

“All right,” Cas agreed. Right now, their biggest priority was Sam’s safety. “I’ll wait in the car, hurry,” he said.

*

Five hours before Dick Roman had called Dean, Bobby and his friend, the 30-something knowledgeable fellow hunter, had already reached Earth. The spells in the book worked, and within minutes they left heaven and reached Earth with little difficulty. The journey wasn’t easy though; Bobby still felt dizzy and light headed upon reaching earth, like he just got down from a roller coaster ride. “Oh God, I feel,” Bobby clutched his stomach, “I feel like I just had bad Sushi along with cheap whiskey.”

The young man laughed quietly. “It’s okay, it happens the first time. The feeling will pass.” He picked up the little leather book that contained the teleportation spells from the ground and put it inside his coat pocket.  
“You mean to tell me this isn’t your first ride from Heaven to Earth?” Bobby somehow mustered the words in confusion, feeling like he was about to throw up.  
“Not exactly, no,” the man replied in his usual low whispered tone. He had been to hell and back, twice in a row, and had once almost died and reached heaven back in his day.  
“Well aren’t you full of surprises,” Bobby replied, feeling a bit better now as his stomach settled.  
“As always,” the young man smiled.

“So where the hell are we?” Bobby asked, looking around his surroundings. The dark and alienated environment filled with tall trees and owl hoots in the night suggested this was a forest.

“We’re a few miles away from Missouri, in some forest,” the man replied.  
“Well great!” Bobby lifted his hands up in the air in frustration. “How the hell are we gonna reach Chicago in time to save Sam?” He asked.

“Well, I don’t think we can wish for a car here on Earth like in Heaven, so we’re probably gonna have to steal one,” the young man replied as he straightened his black jacket and loosened his black tie. “But before we go saving anyone,” he added, “We’ll be needing guns. Lots of guns. Other weapons too. I suppose you know someone with that kind of firepower lying around.”

Bobby stood up straight as the dizzying feeling passed. He thought for a moment, then looked up to him and smiled as he said: “I know a guy.”

*

The car rumbled energetically as Dean hit the accelerator hard, making it roar. The Impala was back in action, for what she was actually made for; saving people, hunting things, and she was happy. Cas sat in the passenger seat next to Dean, biting his nails in anxiety. Dean didn’t look anywhere else except the road; he was determined to do one thing and one thing only at this point: kill Dick Roman and save Sammy. He wasn’t going to let that monster cause the same havoc he once did; havoc that resulted in the death of Bobby Singer, the only closest alternative to a father Dean had. Dean gritted his teeth at the thought of losing Bobby and turned the steering wheel to make a left. 

Cas still pondered over the previous happenings of the night; especially the kiss. Dean came over and kissed him wilfully, something Cas never expected would happen. And yet it did. And it was amazing. And now everything had changed. A simple phone call had turned the tables on them. Dean had forgotten about everything else that happened before and now all his energy was focused on saving his brother. Cas stopped biting and turned to face Dean, who looked rigid and impassive. His left hand gripped the steering wheel and the right was placed on top of his phone, like he was expecting Dick to call again.  
Cas placed his left hand on top of Dean’s right hand. This action momentarily caused Dean to break from his current, homicidal thoughts. He interlocked his fingers gently with Dean’s and gripped his hand lightly. He wanted to tell Dean something but instead he just held his hand. He figured at this moment, words were not going to help Dean calm down.

Dean now looked at Cas who was looking at him with an expression of sympathetic concern. He wanted Dean to know that it was okay; it was going to be alright and that they will be able to rescue Sam with no harm, and somehow kill Dick Roman and anyone else with him. Dean smiled at Castiel, and for a moment forgot about his worries as he stared into those big blue eyes. He gripped Castiel’s hand as a way of saying ‘I understand.’ He turned around to face the road, and after a few seconds he let go of Castiel’s hand and placed it on the wheel. 

Cas understood; Dean was in no mood right now to be touched or talked to. Cas turned and looked out his window, staring into the trees and houses passing by as the faint rays of the morning sun hit them.

*

Bobby and his friend somehow managed to steal a car near a highway, and after two hours of non-stop driving, they reached their destination. The young hunter pointed out that in order to face Dick Roman and possibly several other leviathans along with him, they’ll need lots of firepower. Bobby said that he knew someone who could help with that. And here they were at last, standing in front of an old houseboat where one of Bobby Singer’s old friends lived. The boat had the words “Fizzles Folly” inscribed in bold, and a Ford Ranchero was parked in front of it. Bobby and the young man stepped into the houseboat and reached the door, and as the man reached out to knock on the door, Bobby stopped him. “Wait,” he said, “I remembered he always kept a spare key under the mat,” he crouched down and lifted up the mat, and there it was, as Bobby predicted. “Man, he hasn’t changed,” Bobby smiled and opened the door with the spare key.

The room inside was an untidy mess. There was a table in the middle with lots of papers and documents on top of it. Bobby and the young man entered and a few moments later they heard footsteps coming out of the bedroom. All of a sudden a skinny, poorly dressed fellow emerged with a coffee mug in his hand, and when he saw what stood in front of him he spit out all his coffee from his mouth.  
“Bobby Singer!!” he exclaimed as loudly as he could, coughing wildly as some of the coffee in his mouth went down the wrong pipe.  
“Garth,” Bobby replied, gleaming. He was happy to see his old friend after so long. The same couldn’t be said for Garth, who dropped the coffee mug on the floor as it shattered and picked up the shotgun on his table in a swift second.

“Whoa, whoa!” Bobby called out, startled, as both men lifted their hands up at the sight of the gun, “It’s me. Garth! Trust me, it’s Bobby.”

“Prove it,” Garth demanded. Bobby did as he was told, and took the tests Garth gave him to prove he was not a demon or some shape shifter, or even a Leviathan. The young man did the same, looking at Garth like he couldn’t believe this was the kind of guy who carries as many firearms as Bobby told him on the way.

After the tests were completed, Garth lowered his gun and couldn’t believe his eyes. “Bobby!” he exclaimed, this time with happiness. He hugged Bobby with might, like he was over the moon that he was back. He let go and looked at the tall and somewhat pale guy standing next to Bobby.  
“Who’s this?” Garth asked, still smiling happily.

“A friend,” Bobby replied before the young man could respond. Garth hugged him too, which took him completely by surprise. He looked at Bobby who just shrugged his shoulders, saying, “He’s a hugger,” Bobby grinned.  
Garth let go of the stranger and asked, “How in the name of God are you back? I thought you died?”

Bobby explained everything to Garth. Everything he saw in Heaven. He told Garth everything that was about to happen, which is why Bobby returned. “My God,” Garth alleged loudly, astounded after hearing Bobby’s story.

“So, like I said, right now Sam’s in danger. Now, do you still have the key to that abandoned house I gave you many years ago?” Bobby asked.

“Yeah of course,” Garth replied.

“Good. Now I need it, and I need you to come with us, we need your help,” Bobby replied with grit.

*

Dean and Castiel have been on the road for almost 15 hours by now, making frequent stops and taking turns driving. Dean was reluctant to let Cas drive at first, since Cas had no real experience driving a car, but he couldn’t help himself as he was tired and needed at least four hours of sleep.  
Amidst the roaring streets and the buzzing traffic, Dean was suddenly awakened by the loud sirens of an ambulance and a police car passing by. Dean woke up, jolted by the sound, and rubbed his eyes and looked out the passenger seat window. Chicago. They were almost there.

“What time is it? How long was I out?” Dean asked and looked at Cas, who seemed to be driving with apparent ease, for someone with no real driving experience.  
“Almost 10 o’ clock; it’s all right, you’ve only been asleep for 3 hours,” Cas replied without looking at Dean. The entire day had passed with them on the road and now it was nearing midnight.  
“How far is it?” Dean asked, sitting up straight, turning towards the back seat to make sure they had everything they needed. The Leviathan tablet sat in the middle, along with shotgun shells, 9mm pistols, Borax, John Winchester’s journal and pretty much every weapon necessary.  
“Just a few more minutes,” Cas replied and took frequent turns as they reached a road with very few houses.  
“Hurry,” Dean said and cocked his gun. “And drive slow,” he enjoined as he looked at the speedometer in front of Cas. “We don’t wanna be pulled over for speeding and then get our asses busted for carrying illegal weapons.”

Within a few minutes they reached the house Dick Roman called them at. It was a nice looking giant family home with a white picket fence and a big lawn in front of it. They parked their car a few metres away from it and picked up a few weapons from the trunk.  
“So, how do you wanna do this?” Cas asked as they unloaded weapons from the trunk of Dean’s car.

Dean paused for a moment. “All I know is I’m getting my brother out of there, no matter how many heads I have to chop,” he said as he waved the machete in his hand and concealed it underneath his green jacket.

“I know, but we need a plan to do that,” Cas replied, sounding the least bit confident with Dean’s plan. “These aren’t exactly normal monsters we’re dealing with here. They’re Leviathans, Dean. They don’t usually die, I think we got that by Dick Roman’s return. We can shoot and chop and stab all we want, no matter with what weapon. But you and I both know they are impossible to kill.” Cas sounded apprehensive.

Dean closed the trunk with a thud and placed his hands on top of it and leaned forward. Cas was right. Dean didn’t know what to do; Leviathans are almost impossible to kill, and Dick Roman, the master of them all, apparently seemed invincible. Dean bowed his head down in confusion, unable to think about how to rescue Sam and kill Roman at the same time.

Cas placed his hand on Dean’s shoulder. Dean looked up and said, “What else can I do Cas? Huh? Tell me, because if you’ve got a better plan, I’m open to suggestions.”

Cas didn’t. He simply shook his head. “Okay,” he sighed, “Let’s go kill some Leviathans,” he said, trying hard to sound confident. “I’ll go through the back, you proceed through the front.”

“No,” Dean replied standing up, “You and I are gonna stick together.”

“I don’t think that’ll be a good idea,” Castiel opposed, “who knows what Dick has planned for us. For all we know he could shoot us both before we reach the door, and take the tablet from us and kill Sam as well.”

He made a good point. Dean sighed and nodded. Cas looked at him one last time, and said, “All right, I’ll see you then. Good luck.”

As Cas walked away heading for the house, Dean called behind him from his car. “Hey, wait!” Dean said out loud. Cas turned around to see Dean walking towards him, and stopped within a few inches. “Almost forgot,” Dean said, and kissed Cas on the lips. This wasn’t a passionate kiss, or a lustful kiss, this was for good luck. Dean brushed his lips with Cas and felt the warm soothing moisture of them. He let go in about 5 seconds and opened his eyes to look at Cas, who couldn’t help but smile. “Be careful,” Dean said, “And don’t you die on me.”  
“Same goes for you,” Castiel replied, smiling and brushed his hand across Dean’s hair. He turned around and walked towards the house. Dean followed a moment later, approaching the impending danger lying ahead.

*

Bobby, Garth and the outlandish young fellow reached their destination in a few hours. They stopped in front of an old abandoned house; judging by all the spray paint and broken windows it looked like a hangout for thugs and drug addicts. No one lived here, and Bobby was relieved to see that. The three of them walk up to the back of the house, and found an old shed, locked up. Bobby extends his hand towards Garth, who hands him a set of keys. Bobby had given him the keys to this particular shed a long time ago, telling him to keep it safe and return it only when Bobby asked for it.

Bobby opened the shed and got inside. There was nothing there except an old rusted car and some tools. Bobby walked further, flashlight in hand, while the others followed. He stopped at the farthest corner of the dark shed and lifted up the dusty carpet. There was a hatch, and as he inserted another key and pulled it up, the other two men leaned forward and noticed the steps leading downwards. Bobby got up and looked at the young man, who looked back and raised an eyebrow. “After you,” Bobby said and gestured downwards, and the man in the dark suit stepped inside, reluctantly.

The young man walked down the stairs and reached the ground. As he moved forward, he saw an old door in front of him. It was blinding dark down there, and he couldn’t see a thing around him without his flashlight. Bobby and Garth followed, and Bobby walked to the left towards an old light switch he remembered was there. As the young man opened the door, he waved his flashlight around but was unable to make out what was inside. At that moment, Bobby flipped on the switch and the cobweb wrapped lights glistened, flickering once or twice. Bobby walked up to the young man and spoke from behind, “Will this much firepower be enough, boy?” Bobby asked smugly, slightly grinning.

The young man couldn’t help but admire all the weapons in front of him; all the mp5s, the semi automatics next to the automatics, the various kinds of knives, the ak-47s, the Kalashnikovs, the Elephant Gun in the dusty glass case, the machine guns etc. He couldn’t help but smile from one side of his face and exclaim: “Niiiccceee.”

“So, are we all set?” Garth asked, equally impressed by Bobby’s secret arsenal.  
“Not quite,” the young man replied, and left both Garth and Bobby looking confused. “There’s still one more thing we need. Load the guns in the car, we have one more stop to make,” he directed.

Bobby drove the stolen car filled with weapons and Garth followed them in his truck. Bobby was following his friend’s instructions to reach a certain place the young man said was necessary. “So, can I ask where we’re going, other than saving Sam?” Bobby asked, confused.

“Stop, right there. We’re here,” the young man replied, indicating towards the left side of the road. Bobby did as he was told, and looked outside his window to see that they had stopped in front of a cemetery. The young man quickly got out of the car and picked up a shovel behind Garth’s truck, and entered the cemetery.

Bobby and Garth followed him into the cemetery a few moments later, flashlights in their hand, and found him digging some grave. Both men walked up to him and Bobby asked, “What are you doing?”  
No reply. He was too busy digging someone else’s grave. After a few minutes he stopped, and stooped lower to pick something up. Garth and Bobby walked two steps further and saw him holding a box, the size of a small chest. He got out of the grave and put the box on the ground as he knelt down. Garth pointed his flashlight at the box and tried to take a look at it. “This one looks like it only opens with a special key. Without it I don’t think we’ll be able to pry it open without damaging its contents,” Garth analysed. 

“You mean this key?” the young man replied from below as he pulled out a gold chain from his neck. With it was attached a shiny gold key, and the young man inserted it into the box, which opened with a jolt, its top flying open, displaying the contents inside. Both Bobby and Garth leaned forward to take a peek.

At first Bobby thought it was a big golden cross. But as the young man lifted it up, Bobby realized that it wasn’t a cross; instead it was a gun. A big golden gun with a cross embedded on top. If it weren’t for the golden colour and the cross, Bobby would have thought this was a Tommy gun, or a very powerful shotgun that uses large rounds. Bobby saw that the box also contained many of its rounds with the similar gold coating, and underneath them was placed a somewhat smaller gun. The smaller one was also golden, with no sign of extra rounds for it. 

“What the hell kinda gun is that?” Bobby exclaimed as he stared down at the giant gold weapon in the young man’s hands.  
“The kind that’ll safely guarantee the death of every Leviathan in that room,” the young man replied as he loaded the huge bullets in the gun. He then picked up the smaller gun and placed it on the back of his trousers. 

“This gun kills Leviathans?!” Garth exclaimed with eyes wide open. 

“And every other monster known to man,” the young man replied as he got up from his knees.  
“And how did you know where this was buried?” Bobby asked.  
The young man pointed his index finger forward: “Look at the tombstone.” Bobby pointed his flashlight towards the tombstone in front of them and read the deceased’s name. His eyes went wide.

“This is your grave!” Bobby exclaimed. “But where the hell is your body?”  
“I was cremated,” the young man replied. “A hunter’s funeral. My friend was a detective who took care of everything, including burying my guns here after I was gone without anybody knowing their whereabouts.” He now looked at Garth with attention before he spoke, “I need you to do something for us.”

Both Bobby and his friend explained to Garth what they wanted him to do. They told him where the location was, where Garth must now go.

“All right, no problem,” Garth replied after he listened intently to every instruction given by both of them.

“Okay, then let’s move. Garth, man, thank you for all your help tonight,” Bobby thanked him as he shook his right hand. “I’ll owe you one.”

“Anything for you Bobby,” Garth replied with gratitude. He respected Bobby more than any other hunter in the world, and had followed his footsteps all through his journey. “Now tell me, is there anything else you guys need?” Garth asked him with his ever helpful expression.

“Just that you do what we asked, at the precise time we tell you. We got everything else we need. Except, oh balls,” Bobby scratched his head like he had just forgotten something.  
“What is it?” Garth looked at him.

“With all the rush to get here, I forgot my hat in heaven,” Bobby said as he touched his hair. “I think it’s a little late for me to go and get it back,” Bobby said, laughing.

Garth laughed as well. “Here,” he said, and removed the loose fitting cap from his head and handed it to Bobby. The cap wasn’t loose; Garth was so skinny that even a normal-sized cap seemed bigger on top of his head. 

“Thanks,” Bobby said as he took the cap from his hand and wore it on top of his head. It fitted him perfectly. “Thanks Garth,” He said again, “you did a lot of good work while I was gone. And you also helped the boys with their cases. I’m grateful.”  
“Nah, it was nothing,” Garth replied, shrugging. “I tried my best. But it’s for certain; no one can take the great Bobby Singer’s place.”

*

Dean walked towards the house with haste. Castiel disappeared behind the trees, leaping across the fence and heading towards the back, without being seen. As Dean entered the gate, he saw that there were about four more Leviathans standing by the door, guarding the front and awaiting Dean’s arrival. Two of them walked forward as Dean was about to step on the front porch, and stopped him by standing in his way. One of them fiercely checked Dean from top to bottom, placing his hands on his shoulders to his waist to his legs, and the other just eyed Dean suspiciously. The one who was searching Dean had placed his hands on his waist and felt something, and pulled out the shotgun tucked inside. He pulled out more weapons like a machete, two knives, a desert eagle, a 9mm and the Leviathan tablet. He handed all of these to the one eyeing Dean, and as suspected, he handed the weapons to the other Leviathan and instead only handed the tablet to Dean. “Damnit,” Dean thought to himself as the Leviathans moved away from Dean and let him go inside. 

Dean stepped inside the house and found an empty living room facing him. There was a beautiful decor in the living room, like the family who lived here were rich and had a good taste in interior design. Two men sat in the sofa next to the fireplace, and when they heard Dean’s footsteps, one of them turned his head around and smiled at Dean. “They’re waiting for you inside,” the sharply dressed Leviathan told Dean and turned back around without getting up.

Dean walked through the open door and entered the majestic looking dining room inside. The room had a classical vibe to it, and the lights shone vividly making every corner of the room visible. As Dean stepped inside, his glance immediately fell to the middle of the room.  
Sam sat in a chair, chained to it, his mouth taped shut. As soon as he saw his big brother walk in he tried to yell at him to go back, but no sound could escape from his taped mouth. Dean was walking to his death, and Sam wanted him go run and save himself.

“Sam!” Dean whispered as tension rose to his face, making it seem red. As Dean rapidly walked towards him, a woman’s voice stopped him where he stood. “Not so fast,” a woman’s voice called from behind, and Dean turned around to face a middle-aged woman pointing a gun at him. Dean recognized her from the photos Sam showed him of the victim and his wife, Trisha Parker, the one who was supposedly “possessed.”

“Well well, Dean Winchester,” a familiar voice called from behind and Dean turned again. 

“Dick Roman,” Dean grunted as he saw him standing beside Sam. Dick looked at him with the same wolf grin he had before, and walked forward. “We’ve been waiting for you. So nice of you to come,” he said and stopped, buttoning his Westwood jacket.  
“I see you’ve come alone,” Dick said as he looked towards the open door; “Where is that nutcase angel of yours, Castiel?” 

“He’s not with us anymore,” Dean lied. “I haven’t seen him since he lost his grace. He left as soon as the shit hit the fan. I don’t know where he is, probably with his angel buddies.”

“Yeah, always was a coward, wasn’t he?” Dick replied, looking at Dean like his favourite brand of meat just walked itself to his plate, “well then, looks like it’s just you and me tonight.”

“Let my brother go,” Dean cut him off angrily.

“Sure, sure, of course,” Dick said derisively, “but only before I get what I want. Did you bring what I asked for?”

Dean paused for a moment. He didn’t trust Dick Roman for a second to keep his word. Then again, at this point he had no choice. If he didn’t hand over the Leviathan tablet, Dick could easily kill Sam in a second. He had no idea why Dick Roman wanted the tablet so badly, since the Winchesters already learned how to kill Roman there was really nothing else left to hide. But Dick Roman went out of his way to get this tablet, staging a possession and kidnapping Sam until Dean had no choice but to come here and give him what he wants.

Dean pulled out the Leviathan tablet from behind his Jeans. Dick Roman’s eyes glimmered looking at that familiar slab of stone. “Perfect, thank you. Now hand it over please,” Dick extended his hand forward.

Dean stopped for a few seconds, still wondering whether or not he should hand over the tablet. Sam still tried to mumble something from his taped shut mouth, but nothing could be understood.

“We don’t have all day, Dean,” Dick said impatiently, his hand still extended.

Without thinking anymore, Dean walked forward and handed the tablet to Roman. It sounded like Sam screamed, as Dean could hear the sound of his throat rumbling. Dick Roman smiled as held the tablet in his hands, and felt somewhat pitiful towards Dean since he handed over his only leverage.

*

Cas hurdled across the high wall behind the house. He tip-toed across the pool, and hid himself behind a pillar as a leviathan walked by. He entered the house through the glass doors, and disappeared, closing the curtains. Castiel came out, walking quietly towards the house, when he saw a flight of stairs on the right that headed downwards. This led to the basement, and Cas thought this is where they might be holding Sam. He walked down the stairs and opened the door with inaudible sound. He walked into a dark basement, and scanned the room as much as he could. It seemed unoccupied, and Cas walked further inside to see if Sam was there.

“Hey you! Stop!” Someone yelled behind Cas and he froze. “Don’t move!” The man behind him demanded. “Put your hands over your head. Get on your knees, NOW!” He cried out. Cas did as he was told, and the man walked in front of him, gun in hand. He looked at Castiel with broad eyes like a lion scanning his prey, and held the gun closer to his forehead.

“Hi, I’m Mark, you must be the angel, Castiel,” he snickered, and Cas scoffed in his breath. “You just walked into the wrong territory, pal,” he smiled widely. He immediately hit Castiel in the head with the butt of his gun in one swift move and Castiel went limp. He lost consciousness in a few seconds after the sudden blow to the head.  
“And you do look tasty,” the Leviathan Mark smirked as he looked at Cas’ body lying out cold on the ground, and tucked the gun in his back behind his Jeans, and knelt below to take a bite off Castiel’s neck.

*

“So, I gave you what you wanted. Now remove those chains from Sam,” Dean said to Roman.

Roman didn’t say anything. He simply called one of the leviathans standing by the corner with a gesture of his fingers and handed him the tablet. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that,” Dick said without facing Dean.

“Let my brother go!” Dean demanded loudly, his voice thick.

Dick turned around with an evil grin on his face. “Oh, I’m sorry Dean, I can’t do that,” he replied.

“What?” Dean stopped short.

“You see, I need Sam for something else. Something only he is capable of. I have something very important planned for the future you know, and for that I really need Sam. So I just can’t let him go now, can I?” He laughed mockingly.

Dean was speechless. He had no idea what Dick was talking about. He just understood that whatever he was planning ahead, Sam was going to be a part of it. 

“Now Trish, if you please,” Dick said and before Dean could even turn around, Trisha pushed Dean from behind, with so much force that Dean flew across the room and landed right underneath Sam’s feet. Sam looked at his brother and tried to scream, and Dean yelled in pain as his head hit the floor. 

Dick Roman couldn’t help but laugh out loud at the sight of Dean lying there, helpless. He hated Dean’s guts, and now, this was the perfect opportunity for him to have his revenge.

“Oh Dean, look at you, so pathetic!” Dick said, laughing. “You and that angel took my powers, you destroyed my reign over this world, you took away my control.”

“Oh, well, sorry about that. But were a dick, Dick, and you just had to die,” Dean mumbled as he looked up, his head dizzy from the fall.

Dick stopped laughing and stared at Dean with serious eyes: “I’ve waited a long time for this,” he said and took a step forward.

And that’s when it happened.

As soon as Dick took one step towards Dean, all the lights in the house went out, leaving everyone in absolute darkness.

*

After hours of driving, Bobby and his younger friend reached their destination. 541 K Browning Street. They slowed their car down, and Bobby saw the impala by the side of the road, and hit the brakes as their car stopped to a halt. 

“Dean and Cas are already here,” Bobby said as he got out of the car, sounding concerned. He took out the burner cell phone he got from Garth, and the young man walked towards him. “Let’s do this,” he said.  
They took out the weapons from the trunk. Bobby picked up a large knife, a pistol with a silencer attached to it, a bottle of Borax and a Glock. The young man picked up only his guns, the gold shotgun with the cross on top and the smaller gun was already in his person. He picked up a bottle of borax and tucked it inside his jacket in case he needed it to stun a Leviathan and make an escape.

“You’re not taking anything else?” Bobby asked him, surprised at his boldness.

“I have all I need,” the man said confidently. “Send the text now,” he said, quietly.

Bobby typed the word on his cellphone and sent it to the only number saved in the phonebook. 

*

Nearby, Garth was sitting in his Ford Ranchero, parked in a deserted area, waiting patiently to make his move. He was still surprised at tonight’s events; Bobby was back, all gutsy and determined; he was back in action. Garth was so happy to see him again, and the fact that he came to Garth first for help right after reaching Earth made him even more proud of himself. His thoughts were cut short as his phone buzzed in his pocket, and as he took it out he saw that he had received a text message from Bobby himself. He opened it to read what it said:

“NOW.”

Garth immediately put his keys in the ignition and hit the accelerator as hard as he could. He drove straight ahead with force. With blazing speed, he hit the transformer in front of him with his car, and while his car banged into it and stopped to a halt, the transformer snapped and fell to the ground vehemently, sending sparks flying all over the place.

Garth got out of the car, his nerves jittered. Up ahead, he could see all the lights of each house going out one by one, until the entire block went completely dark.

*

Bobby hit the “send” button and looked at his friend. “So, now what?” He began, “We’re just gonna walk up to the monsters inside and hope that Dick Roman and the others die from our bullets?” Bobby asked, somewhat disheartened at their chance of success.

“Well, yes,” the young man replied quietly, “You can shoot as many of them as you want, but with your guns I’m guessing there is lesser chance of survival.” He pulled out the smaller gun from his back and handed it to Bobby. “Take this too. If bullets don’t work, this will definitely guarantee their death.”

“What’s this?” Bobby asked as he held the strange looking gun in his hands.

“Dragon’s breath,” the young man replied, and walked towards the front of the house with his giant golden gun, while Bobby went through the back.

*

The room went completely dark. Dick Roman and the others were fully startled when the lights went out, and all of them became alert. Dick Roman stood where he was, next to Sam and Dean. 

“What the hell happened?! Go outside and check it out,” he ordered one of his leviathans loudly even though he couldn’t see a thing. Neither could Dean, who was just as confused as the others. He was still lying beside Sam, who was equally baffled.  
Suddenly, they heard faint thuds coming from the front lawn. It sounded like gunshots; someone was shooting Dick’s leviathans outside. The ones inside immediately pulled out their guns, and within seconds they heard a loud bang. 

Someone had just kicked the door open with full force; amidst the darkness they could hear the wood of the door snap and break open and someone coming inside and firing at the two leviathans in the living room. Both of them screamed in pain, and within two seconds the screams died out as they fell to the floor, dead. Dick was absolutely shocked and scared at this point; someone was shooting at his leviathans and they were actually falling to the ground and possibly, dying. It was physically impossible.

And then, someone opened the dining room door slowly. Nothing could be seen, and yet Dick was completely scared by this invisible force. He screamed, “Shoot! SHOOT NOW!” The leviathans inside at once fired their guns at the door with full force, without seeing who their target was, and Dean covered his ears and ducked next to Sam. Bullet casings showered on the wooden floor as they emptied their magazines at the open door and stopped as the gunshot resonance faded, assuming the one who was about to come in was probably dead.

And then, out of the blue, Dick saw a bright spark from the open door, and a loud outburst followed. In pitch black darkness, someone fired a shotgun and a leviathan screamed in agony, falling on the floor towards the left, next to Dean. There were ten more Leviathans in the room along with Dick Roman, Trisha and Ryan, and they were all taken completely by shock. Dean couldn’t see a thing but as he lifted up his head, he could see the flashes of a very loud shotgun coming from the front door, as someone shot at the leviathans repeatedly, left, right and in the middle, one by one. The footsteps of the invisible attacker paced forward, as he reloaded in one swift whirl and began shooting on all fours. The leviathans were dropping one by one, screaming in brutal agony, and dying within a few seconds. Dick was scared as a kid in the dark by now; he felt as helpless as he ever could, and screamed at one of his leviathans in the dark: “The Emergency generator! TURN ON the emergency generator in the back, NOW!” 

The shooter heard the scream and turned towards Dick and fired his majestic weapon at him. Dick fell to the floor, unharmed, since he ducked right after screaming those words. At this point, two leviathans managed to escape through the back, and one of them, Ryan, ran swiftly near the pool and turned on the emergency generator. The lights were back on, and as soon as Ryan turned around he saw an old man in a cap standing in front of him.

Bobby started shooting at Ryan with his 9mm pistol attached to a silencer. Ryan didn’t even flinch, instead he looked mad with anger and ran towards Bobby, ready to pounce on him. Bobby threw his emptied pistol at the pool and instead took out the golden gun his young friend had given him, and pointed it at Ryan. In milliseconds, the gun spit a blazing red fire. It hit Ryan with full force and he burnt to a crisp within seconds, leaving Bobby astounded. He looked at the gun in his hand and exclaimed: “Damn!” This was no gun, it was a flamethrower.

The lights were back on and Dick could finally see who shot all of his men. Dean sat up too, and gazed upwards to see a pale, 30 year old man with jet black hair standing tall, he wore a black jacket on top of his white shirt and a loose black tie, and held a strange looking weapon with a gold cross in hand. Dean looked at his gun, and then at him in amazement; he couldn’t believe this guy just killed about ten leviathans as soon as he entered. He removed his night-vision goggles and revealed his pale, gentle face. Even Sam stared at him, and had no idea who he was, although he was glad that this stranger had shown up. 

Dick Roman got up from the floor and looked at the man with the gun. He was astounded, speechless and was frightened as hell. This young man seemed like a typical office worker or some funeral planner dressed in black, and yet after what he just did, Dick felt like he was some kind of invincible vigilante.

“Who the... Who the hell are you?” Dick stammered.

“I’m the guy who’s going to send your ass back to hell, Dick,” the man replied with a calm yet determined voice. Dean was about to ask the same thing, when all of a sudden they heard screaming from outside. Dean got up from where he fell, and looked outside through the glass doors; and then he couldn’t believe who he saw. 

Bobby Singer set ablaze two leviathans with the gun that spit out Dragon’s breath, and both fell to the ground screaming in brutal agony. He ran towards the house and opened the glass door and stepped inside, and was greeted by Dick Roman’s utterly shocked expression.

“You!” Dick exclaimed. “I shot you! In the head. I killed you!” He yelled.

“Well, you did,” Bobby replied as he walked towards the young man, gun still pointed at Dick, and looked at his boys. Sam and Dean couldn’t believe their eyes. Dean’s mouth gaped at his sight and Sam’s eyes shot wide open. “And now I’m back. Just like you, you son of a bitch,” Bobby grunted at Dick.

“Bobby?” Dean exclaimed as well, his voice pleading, like he was having a really vivid dream that he wished to be real. But it was real, and Dean can’t believe it. It was really him.

“Hey boys,” Bobby looked at both the Winchesters and smiled, like he just got reunited with his long lost sons.

“How is this possible? How are you back?” Dick asked, still knocked for six by Bobby’s arrival.

“We could ask you the same thing,” the young man next to Bobby responded instead, and lifted his gun to point at his head. Dick lifted up his hands like he was surrendering.

“We’re not gonna let you do what you’re here to do, Dick,” Bobby said. “I won’t let you.” He walked towards Sam and crouched down behind him; he tried to remove the locks that bounded Sam in chains.

And then, even after being held at gunpoint, Dick suddenly smiled. “We’ll see about that.” And then Dean turned around abruptly like he felt he heard someone walking forward, and suddenly yelled: “Watch out!” 

And in one second, someone jumped on top of the young man and knocked the cross-shotgun off his hand, and Dick, taking advantage of that moment, ran out through the open, bullet proof glass doors and locked everyone inside. He ran by the side of the house and reached the front, and stopped to pull out something from his jacket. He pulled out his lighter and lit the flame, and stared at the house like he couldn’t believe he had failed in what he set out to do. But now, he had no choice. Even though Sam was important to him, he can’t go back inside without getting killed. “Burn, you sons of bitches!” He whispered and threw his lighter on the empty front porch, and within seconds a flame erupted which grew stronger and stronger until it spread all over the outer walls of the house within minutes. The outer walls of the house were layered with fuel and chlordane, an odourless flammable liquid; a safety measure taken by Dick Roman in case his plans went awry. And it did, and now the whole house was about to go up in flames with Dean, Sam, Cas, Bobby and his young friend still inside.

*

Moments after the Leviathan Mark had knocked Castiel over the head rendering him unconscious; he looked down at Cas as he stood above him, smirking, like his favourite dinner was just handed to him for free. As he was about to open his giant Levi mouth to chew on his prey, he heard loud gunshots coming from the top. He got up, perplexed and alert, and a second later he heard the loud bang of the front door breaking open above him. He left Castiel where he was, and ran upstairs and as he opened the door and peeked outside, he saw two of his friends lying dead in the living room. He marched forward, quietly, and when he reached the dining room he saw more Leviathans on the floor, and hid behind the door and peeked inside. He saw an older man in a hat walking towards Sam Winchester and crouching downwards, and another guy in a black suit held his boss Dick Roman at gunpoint. He immediately walked towards them without making a sound, and within seconds he jumped on top of the man holding the strange looking gun until it fell out of his hands, giving his boss the chance to escape.

*

Mark had jumped on top of the young man right after Dean yelled “Watch out!”, and his gun fell to the floor towards the side. Mark pinned the young man and grabbed his throat with both hands, blocking his windpipe and choking him. The young man tried to fight him off but failed, as the Leviathan on top of him was stronger. Bobby got up from behind Sam and yelled, “Cover your eyes, boy!” 

The young man immediately shielded his face with his arms, and Bobby pointed the gun given by his friend straight at the Leviathan. He pulled the trigger and a blazing red flame shot straight ahead, and before Mark could even turn around, he was burnt to a crisp before he fell to the side. The young man opened his eyes and breathed heavily in relief, and as he got up and dusted the ash from his dark coat, he murmured, “Thanks,” he smiled at Bobby.

“Don’t mention it, “ Bobby replied, and crouched down again to remove the chains off Sam. The young man walked towards the glass doors and jolted them, but they won’t open as Dick had locked them from outside. He turned around to face the three men, and felt like there was something wrong.

“Do you smell that?” he asked as he looked around the room, his face tensed. 

“Smell what?” Dean asked him, still confused as to who he was.

And then, they saw it. Flames erupted from the front of the house as it spread all over the outside walls, and the house started heating up. The flames were now entering inside, and the living room was already burning profoundly.

“We really have to go, now!” the young man said with a serious tone to Bobby, who after a few minutes of picking the locks was able to remove the chains off Sam. He removed the tape off his mouth and immediately got up, and looked at Bobby in astonishment.

“Bobby, how are you back?!” Sam asked as he stared at him.

“We don’t have much time Sam, I’ll explain everything later,” Bobby replied hastily.

“Come on, LET’S GO!” The young man yelled at the three of them as he picked up his large gun, and motioned towards the door as the flames spread inside.

The four men ran towards the broken front door and ran outside. Fire had eaten up most of the house already, the flames skyrocketing and the insides of it burning. Sam and Bobby were coughing as smoke from the inside filled up their lungs, and they kept running till they reached their cars. Dean suspected Cas was waiting by the car, but when he didn’t see him he stopped abruptly and asked, “Wait, wait, where’s Cas?” He asked Bobby and his friend. 

“Wait, he wasn’t with you?” Bobby sounded puzzled.

“No, he went through the back,” Dean answered.

“I didn’t see him anywhere Dean,” Bobby answered, sounding honest. 

Dean stopped breathing for a second. “He’s still inside,” Dean thought, and couldn’t move. “Come on Dean, let’s go,” Sam yelled at Dean, but Dean couldn’t hear him. His mind went numb. A second later, he turned around and ran towards the blazing house with full speed. “Dean, STOP! YOU CAN’T GO THERE!” Sam yelled behind him, but Dean didn’t listen. He was not going to let the love of his life go up in flames.

*

Cas started coughing forcefully as smoke filled up the basement where he was lying unconscious. He woke up after he felt a sudden wave of heat surround him, and grabbed his head, heaving as a sharp pain shot up in his forehead. He tried to see what was going on with slightly blurred vision from the blow to the head, and saw that smoke had filled the entire basement and fire was erupting from above. He walked forward rapidly, towards the stairs leading above till he reached a door. He started panicking when the door failed to unlock. With no choice left, Castiel kicked on the door twice with all his might, and ran towards the front and was met with blistering fire around him. The living room was completely ablaze, the furniture and the couch burning intensely. Cas was unable to breathe; he placed his arm on his mouth as he tried not to breathe in the smoke and suffocate, and ran inside towards the dining room, and found several dead bodies lying inside. Most of them were burning along with the fire, and Cas finally saw his only ray of hope; a glass door free from flames in front of him. He ran towards it and pulled the handle, and panicked again, as this one failed to unlock either. He coughed and got very flustered, and when he banged on the glass it seemed impenetrable. He picked up one of the dining chairs and threw it against the glass; instead it bounced back and the chair broke in two, leaving the glass unharmed. Cas thought to himself amidst the flames. Bulletproof. God help me. 

Cas walked in the middle of the room and looked all around him. Fire everywhere. And Dean was nowhere to be seen. Neither was Sam. For all he knew, Dean and Sam were both killed by Dick Roman. 

Or they both left.

Cas didn’t mind the latter; in fact he would be grateful if the latter happened. The most important thing in Castiel’s mind was Dean’s safety, he wished now more than anything that Dean and Sam were out of this house before it was set ablaze. In fact, he prayed, he prayed to God that Dean was safe, and as Cas fell to the ground on his knees, coughing, suffocating, he accepted his near-ending death.

*

Sam kept yelling behind Dean to stop. So did Bobby. “Stop Dean, you can’t go inside!!” Sam yelled behind Dean but he pretended not to listen, he kept running towards the house with full force. He didn’t give a shit; he was not going to leave Cas in that house to burn alive. Till his dying breath he would try and save Cas, no matter what.

Dean ran towards the flaming porch with full speed. He didn’t stop as the flames touched his feet, latching onto his jeans.

Dean kept running. Running like a madman. He couldn’t hear a thing besides the roar of the flames around him, and that did nothing to stop him from running inside. He ran so fast, so hard, that he broke through the half burnt wall and reached the study. He didn’t stop. He ran until his kinetic energy broke through the scorching wooden door, leading him to the dining room. Small fires attached themselves on Dean’s jacket as the wooden chunks from the door latched onto him, but Dean didn’t care. He stopped when he saw a familiar figure kneeling right in the middle of the room, coughing and trying to breathe as the oxygen in the room burnt heavily along with the house itself. Dean ran towards him and knelt in front of him, yelling; “Cas! Hey Cas! Can you hear me? Hey, hey, look at me, are you okay?” Dean grabbed his shoulders and shook him, and Cas looked up, eyes flickering. 

“Dean,” he said as he coughed violently, “I... I thought you left,” he cried out.

“What, you think I was gonna leave you behind?” Dean said and smiled, and put his hands on Cas’ face. “Hey, look at me Cas, hey!” Cas looked up into Dean’s eyes: “Are you hurt? Can you walk?” Dean asked.

“Yeah I’m all right,” Cas yelled as the flames grew greater around them, and Dean yelled back, “All right, get up. Come on man, we gotta go, NOW!” 

Dean pulled Cas up and placed his arm over his shoulders. Both men walked rapidly towards the living room, and Dean saw that the front door along with the porch were completely up in flames. They looked around the room and saw no opening; everything was burning. Dean then looked at the large glass window in front of him; he took a deep breath and let go of Cas’ arm. He looked at Cas then looked back at the window, and Cas immediately understood what he was thinking. 

“You ready?” Dean asked, panting.

“Not quite,” Cas replied, smiling faintly, and Dean smiled back. 

“3... 2... 1...” Dean counted backwards and within seconds, both men ran towards the silver glass window with full force, and smashed through the window as they fell on the green grass of the front lawn.  
Dean didn’t notice it before, but he was covered in flames on his right side by now, and Cas’ right leg was also blazing with fire. Both of them tried to get up but failed; the lack of oxygen inside and the rapid jump through the glass window made them both dizzy. 

Within a few moments, Dean and Cas felt someone dousing the flames on their body, and as Dean tried to open his eyes, he saw the faint figures of Sam and Bobby picking him up and away from the burning house. Behind them, Bobby’s young friend carried Castiel on his shoulders, and headed towards their cars.

*  
*

The events passed by in a jiff and the midnight brought with itself a slight drizzle of rainfall. The five men were back in the Men of Letters bunker, safe and sound. Dean sat in his room on a tall stool, next to a table with a first-aid kit. He was trying to bandage his left hand which got slightly burnt in the fire. Several other parts of his body got burnt as well, but they weren’t serious burns and would heal in a day or two. Dean tried to wrap the bandage with his right hand and tie a knot, but failed twice. As he placed the bandage again, he felt a hand on his shoulder.

Cas entered the room and saw Dean fidgeting with the bandages, and came in and stood next to Dean. Dean looked up by his shoulder and smiled at Cas, who didn’t return the smile. Instead, he pulled up the stool next to Dean’s, and seated himself, taking the bandages and scissors from his hands and said, “Here, let me.”

Dean let go of the bandages and Cas took his hand. He looked at the burnt marks on Dean’s hand and slightly twitched in his seat, looking somewhat agonized. He re-applied the antiseptic on the wounds and rubbed it gently, the very touch of him made Dean feel already better. He took the bandages and gently wrapped them around Dean’s hand, folding his hand over and over with it until his hand was firmly wrapped. He still wasn’t looking at Dean, who on the other hand kept staring at him, relieved to see Cas sitting next to him, after the near-death experience he just had. 

“That was the single-most stupidest thing I’ve ever seen you do, Dean,” Cas said, still folding the bandage around his hand without looking at Dean.

“What do you mean?” Dean asked.

“What do you think?” Cas said, sounding irritated. “You, jumping through fire and getting me out, that’s what.”

“Oh that,” Dean sighed, smiling. “Well, I did have to save your ass. I couldn’t just let you become roasted meat.”

“I’m not kidding, Dean,” Cas replied, sounding serious. “That was really stupid of you. You could have died. You can’t just risk your life like that, not even for me.”

“Agree to disagree,” Dean replied.

“I’m serious,” Cas said, looking at Dean now. “I can’t bear the thought of you getting hurt. You can’t always be a hero, Dean. Not if it comes at the cost of risking your life, not even for me.

Dean stopped smiling and instead, grabbed Castiel’s hands who were tying the knot on his bandage. He held them in his hands, and said, “Listen to me,” and got up from his chair.

“I will always try and save you from danger no matter what kinda crap we’ll be in. I don’t care what happens to me; I will try and save you with every last breath in my body, and you can’t change that,” Dean said firmly, holding Cas’ hands. 

Cas looked up at Dean and smiled wide; he was mad at Dean for trying to be all heroic and putting himself in danger for Cas, but after what Dean said he realized Dean will always be there for him no matter what. He looked into Dean’s eyes with pure affection, and Dean smiled back. “Come here,” he said and pulled Cas closer, and as he got up Dean gave him a quick kiss on the lips and hugged him tight. Cas buried his face on the crook of Dean’s neck and took in his scent, the faded smell of smoke and ash still lingering on his skin. He closed his eyes and gripped him tight, like he never wanted to let Dean go, like he wanted to keep him close to him forever, away from all the monsters out to harm them.

A few minutes later, footsteps could be heard nearing Dean’s bedroom. Dean and Cas stepped away from each other when they heard it; Cas sat on the chair putting back the things in the first-aid kit and Dean walked towards the door, and stopped to see Sam entering inside.

“Hey, are you okay?” Sam asked as he stepped inside Dean’s bedroom, looking at his big brother with slight concern. 

“Yeah, I’m good, what about you?” Dean replied.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good,” Sam replied, smiling. “That was some heroic thing you did, boy,” another voice said behind Sam, and Bobby stepped inside, smiling. “Saving Cas like that, you’re one tough idgit,” he said.

“Bobby,” Dean exclaimed with delight, and walked forward to give him a proper hug. With all the rush Dean wasn’t fully able to welcome Bobby, but now he was more than overjoyed to see his old friend. “You son of a gun,” Dean said cheerfully as he let go of Bobby, “How the heck did you come back from the dead?”

“Come back from heaven, you mean?” Bobby corrected, “Yeah well, my friend helped me out with that. I had to come back, Dean. I saw what was going to happen. I saw the future ahead. And I had to come save you boys.”

“What future? What’re you talking about?” Dean asked, puzzled. “What’s going to happen Bobby?”

“I’m not sure, son. But all I know is there’s a storm coming, and Sam is going to be a part of it.”

Sam looked at Bobby with confusion. “What’s this got to do with Sam?” Dean asked.

“It has everything to do with Sam,” someone else said behind Bobby, and they all looked at him. Bobby’s friend stood by the door, wearing the same clothes he wore before, with a cigarette between his two left fingers. He took a drag from his cigarette and looked at everyone with his light, intense eyes. 

“What do you mean?” Sam asked, staring at the stranger in front of him.

“Whatever Dick Roman had planned to do after tonight, Sam, you were going to be a part of it. And I’m here to stop him,” the young man replied, blowing out the smoke. 

Dean stepped forward, looking straight at the man standing by the door. “And who the hell are you?” He demanded.

The young man stepped inside, and replied in his usual quiet, meticulous tone:

“My name is John Constantine. And I’m here to help.”

*

To Be Continued...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you've enjoyed this chapter. I've planned numerous plot twists, suspenses, fluff and angst in the coming chapters. So sit tight and enjoy the ride! Chapter 3 is currently being written and will be posted in a few days. So keep an eye out!
> 
> Characters inspired by the hit series Supernatural by The CW. The character John Constantine was inspired by Keanu Reeves' portrayal of the character in the movie 'Constantine' (2005) by Warner Bros. No copyright infringement intended.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt at writing a fanfic.  
> Characters influenced by the hit series Supernatural by The CW. No copyright infringement intended.


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